46 his abnormal-psychology textbooks and slide rule-a camaraderie further modified by public insinuations of young Norton's father's links to orga- nized-crime figures, notably parole vi- olator Legs Diamond and creative financier Vladimir Arcati, whose ca- sino activities in various Belgian Congo banks enabled him to be' the very same man who lent old Norton bags and bags of money to buyout the insurance company, reincorporate in New York as a public utility, put him- self, his son young Norton, the same Arcati, and a Boston lawyer named Keswick on the board of directors, and send the street-smart young Barton Keyes out to the Coast to do Insur- ance-claims investigation, paying him in preferred stock. They were all wen aware by then that old man Keyes had been overlooked, but young Keyes was the only one who never forgot it. K EYES had been avoiding Walter's office, but the next morning, Au- gust 10, he went in there with his container of "joe" and the new cas- sette. Walter looked terrible. The Fred MacMurray-ish verve was sub- dued, his hair was unkempt, his skin clammy, and blood trickled down his temple. Keyes had seen enough fishy injury cases to recognize a laceration inflicted by a woman's ankle bracelet. "Walter," said Keyes, "I hate to bust in with such a ridiculous, nitpick- ing question, but did you accidentally use Nettie's machine to confess to the murder of Dietrichson?" "If you say so. But I honestly don't recall making the tapes." "Repression," said Keyes. "Classic. O.K., do you remember bumping off Dietrichson at all?" "Vaguely . Well, no. I guess not." "Why confess on tape, then? That's cuckoo, Walter." "I'm sorry-it sounds irrational, but I just can't accept that I did some- thing as nuts as murder." "I know. Maybe you confessed just to act out a general, underlying sense of guilt. So-am I going to find any more of these tapes?" "No, no-I swear on my mother's policy, Keyes, there won't be any more." "I hope not," said Keyes. "And have the company doc take a gander at that head wound." O N a hunch, Keyes went back to the office that night. At 1 A.M. he passed a dozing Joe Pete and took the elevator. Keyes' light was on. ON THE LANGUAGE OF DUST Though the wallflower is fidelity in adversity, The broken straw the spoiling of a contract, The sparrow sweeps the streets, the wren proclaims. The neat and humble broom, bindweed, docile rush, The cup of kindness spill through open hands, The polestar is lost or shattered on the grass. White poppy, sleep, my bane and antidote. Pitch pine, you think you think too much F or benevolence I peeled the squat potato, For bluntness gathered borage; the oat hummed back The simple barn owl slept above my lintel While the weekday came, the pale bride of no one When the Northern Lights go out the larks collide And lupine takes their blood voraciously. Indian jasmine, I attach myself to you. The cabbage thrives and profits in its season, But not the swallowwort that cured my heartache, N or lemon in its zest, nor solitary lichen. Without the seven stars, without the moon, Without the sun-drenched winds, without my care, Birds pass above into the space where no birds are. Rose, deep red, give me your bashful shame, White rose, I am unworthy of you, rose, Dog, thornless, fun-blown, white and red together, Blasted rose placed over two buds, rose of war, White rosebud of girlhood, cluster and musk, Ragged robin of wit, single, burned, bleached. The silent days are one. Rose of endings, Calm me now, night-blooming cereus, nettle, Bravery of oak leaf, wingless, talk to me, foxglove. -PHILIP LEVINE . Through the door he saw Walter leaning over the desk, speaking into the Dictola and bleeding profusely through his shirt. Apparently someone has shot him, Keyes mused. Keyes made a phone call. Then he said to Walter, "They're on their way." Walter said, "You know why you couldn't figure this one, Keyes? I'll tell you. Because the guy you were looking for was too close. He was right across the desk from you." "Closer than that, Walter." "I love you, too," said Walter. "O.K., out of personal loyalty to you, I'll go peacefully when the cops get here. " "N ot the cops, Walter. The board of directors " "No!" screamed Walter In sudden 1 34S67 . terror. "Anything but that! Police brutality, the gas chamber at Folsom -but not the board!" He began drag- ging himself desperately toward the elevator, but it seemed to be a couple of miles away. Then its doors slid open, revealing a lone figure. P ROMPTL Y at 8:00 the next morning, just off LouLor Airlines Flight 17, old Norton, young Norton, Keswick, Vladimir Arcati, and Benny Blochkopf, a ninety-year-old risk-cap- ital philanthropist who also sat on the boards of several Arcati-run dummy corporations and diploma mills in the Lesser Antilles, all filed into Walter Neff's hospital room. Office wags would later call them "the Blood Bank. " Keyes made his presentation. Then young Norton lounged back insult- ingly in his chair, sneered like a basi- lisk, and said, "So Neff snuck into your precious office after hours and used some sacrosanct dictating ma- chine. Big deal. Shall we also repri-